


Care and Feeding

by ZaliaChimera



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Affection, Caretaking, Collars, Dom/sub Undertones, Kissing, M/M, Manipulation, Monsters, Monsters in love, Season/Series 04, artefact storage, happy monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 06:36:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19865131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaliaChimera/pseuds/ZaliaChimera
Summary: The rules are there for Jon's protection. Martin isn't going to let anyone hurt them again.





	Care and Feeding

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

Once Martin would have argued. He would have protested and tried to make him see that _it isn’t like that Jon! Don’t be silly._ But it is like that, and they both know it.

Instead Martin just looks at him, eyebrow raised, until Jon lowers his gaze and sits back down. His fingers claw against the desk, scratching lightly, and the itch is palpable. He gets like this when he’s hungry, the kind of hunger that no amount of sandwiches or take away Chinese will sate. 

“You know the rules, Jon,” Martin says, letting that firmness, the one that he pays attention to, seep into his voice. “You’re not allowed to go out on your own.”

He gives Martin a a mutinous look, lips set into a stubborn line. “What if I just want to get dinner?”

“You could at least choose a believable lie, Jon,” Martin says. He closes the door to Jon’s office and crosses over to the desk. He sets down the bundle in his hand, and then grabs Jon’s chin, forcing his head up. He feels the way Jon’s breath quickens, watches his tongue flick out over his lips in a way that is half nerves, and half need. His eyes are very dark, and he meets Martin’s for a second before they dart away again and he hunches in on himself, guilt radiating from him.

“I-”

Martin strokes his cheek with his free hand, and that silences him. “It’s alright. I’m not angry,” he says. “But you have to follow the rules. I can’t protect you if you don’t follow the rules. You know what happened last time.”

Jon flinches at the reminder. Someone had found them, someone less inclined to leave peacefully. In the end, they’d never left at all. The Archives had ached with their fear for days.

“I know,” Jon says softly. “ I just-”

“You trust me, don’t you?” Martin asks.

Jon looks up at him, startled. “Of course I do.”

Martin smiles and leans in to kiss him gently. His lips part softly, like a flower blooming, and he’s always so pleased for every scrap of attention and affection and Martin always wants to lavish him with it.

They part, and Martin rests his forehead against Jon’s, breathing in the same air for a moment. “We’ll head out to Greenwich okay?”

“Alright,” Jon says, and something in Martin loves it when he’s like this, so eager to please, to be good for him.

Martin rewards him with another kiss. “I brought you something. Elias gave it to me. I think it’s from Artefact storage.”

He picks up the bundle and lets it fall open. It’s a collar, thick but soft leather. Jon wrinkles his nose, but there’s that spark of curiosity that has him reaching out to touch it. His eyes go distant for a minute, a sign that Martin has come to recognise as him Knowing something. Finally, he tilts his head a little, and nods. 

“I think it should work,” he says. “It will give you a certain amount of… control. If I lose mine.”

“That’s good to know,” Martin says. He takes the collar back from Jon, feels the weight of it in his hands.

Jon’s gaze is fixed on his hands, rapt attention, and then he tilts his head back to expose the smooth line of his throat.

Martin raises the collar and wraps it around Jon’s neck. It snaps shut at the back, and he can see the way Jon’s throat bobs. Martin brushes his fingers against Jon’s pulse and then pulls away to admire it. 

It looks good on him, like it belongs. A rush of pleasure and heat runs through him at the sight, and he has to take a deep breath to force it down.

Jon snorts, but it’s a fond sound more than anything. “Don’t need to hide it,” he mutters. “I don’t mind. Nice to be wanted.”

“Always, Jon,” Martin replies. He stands up and offers Jon a hand. “Shall we go?”

Jon’s hand is warm in his own, and he curls their fingers together as they head to the door.


End file.
